


Carnival Nights

by wren_pal



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hop is protective but well-meaning, Kissing, One Shot, Post Season 2, Rated teen for swearing, awkward teens, summer before high school, summertime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-18 13:37:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14214291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wren_pal/pseuds/wren_pal
Summary: In which Mike introduces El to the carnival. Takes place post season 2, before they start high school.





	Carnival Nights

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the news that season 3 will take place during the summer. So exciting!

It goes without saying, really, that El enjoys every aspect of her freedom from the lab. Having an opinion--that is a big one. Sometimes she will argue or talk back to Hopper just because she _can._ It’s overwhelming, the freedom to say “no" or ask “why" without the consequence of solitary confinement. Self-advocacy, having friends, feeling loved, and loving in return are of course the biggest and most important of her freedoms, the ones she _needs_ to feel alive, and now that she has them, she would rather die than go without them again.

But there are other freedoms, smaller ones, those that others would overlook, that El cherishes. Television, junk food, the feeling of carpet beneath her feet, and the window in her bedroom are some examples of these. However, El’s favorite is definitely the freedom to choose her own clothing. She’d spent so much time in clothes that were picked out for her; hospital gowns, over large t-shirts, sweats and dresses that didn't belong to her (though, at the time, they felt like a luxury, and she’ll never forget what it felt like to wear real clothes for the first time). Her year and hiding had given her some taste of this freedom; as much as Hopper’s box of too-big hand-me-downs and thrift store surplus clothes could allow, anyway. 

Now, she sometimes spends long moments of her free time running her hands along the clothing that hangs in her closet, an array of pastels, florals, and stripes. Nancy had insisted on taking the reins in the area of El’s clothing. After all, asking for Hop’s advice on girls’ fashion is about as useful as asking Mike Wheeler about the technical details of any organized sport. 

Since El was still in hiding, and therefore unable to go shopping, Nancy bought nearly every piece of clothing she could find that El might like--using Hop’s cash, of course--and brought it back to cabin, where El picked her favorites and sorted those she didn’t like or that didn’t fit into the “to be returned" pile.

Today is the first time she’ll get to actually wear her new clothes outside of the cabin. Every summer, the carnival comes to Hawkins, and after weeks of hounding Hopper (from both El and Mike), he had relented; things had been very quiet, and Owens was optimistic that the year timeline he’d previously given could be shortened by a couple months. Of course, the promise of the carnival came with a whole new host of “don’t be stupid” rules, one of which was that Hop would be going to the carnival too, and they had to check in with him every hour. At this point, El knew better than to argue. Being able to be with Mike, outside the context of the cabin or the Byers house, was unbelievably exciting and new. 

Which is why El decides on her favorite piece of clothing: a cotton sundress adorned with pastel stripes, with a fitted bodice and full skirt. When El had come out of the bathroom after first trying it on, Nancy had said she looked “so pretty” with such enthusiasm that El couldn’t help but feel a little shy, smiling and looking down, while smoothing her hands over the length of the skirt. 

_I want Mike to see me in this dress_ , was her immediate thought. El knows there are more important things than looking pretty, like being kind and strong and honest; she also knows that Mike doesn’t care whether she wears a frilly dress or a burlap sack. However, being in charge of herself, making decisions, including how she wants to look, makes her feel powerful, in a different way than she’s accustomed to. 

She’s putting blue plastic barrettes in her hair when Hop knocks softly on the door. “Hey Kid. Finish up. He’ll be here soon.”

Mike is biking to the cabin so they can all drive together. Knowing him, he’ll be at at least ten minutes early, knocking impatiently at the door, all eager eyes and bursting with things to tell her.

When El walks out of the bathroom, Hop looks at her and immediately brings a hand up to his face to pinch the bridge of his nose. El has learned this means he is annoyed or distressed by something. 

“What?” she asks.

“Is that really…” he sighs again, “you know what, never mind.” If there’s one thing Hopper has learned about teenagers (especially the telekinetic sort) it’s _choose your fucking battles._ And he’s not about to get in an argument with El about looking _too pretty._

She’s just slipping on her sandals when she hears the tell-tale knock at the door. He’s 13 minutes early today, which causes Hop to mutter “Je- _sus_ ,” under his breath. The door opens, and for the first time she can remember, Michael Wheeler is speechless. He spends an awkward moment standing in the threshold, staring at her with his lips parted. He looks like he’s about to say something, his mouth slowing working, when Hop clears his throat loudly, dropping his heavy hand onto Mike’s shoulder, almost making his knees buckle underneath it. “You guys ready to go?” he says roughly, taking the hand from Mike’s shoulder and rubbing his own face with it, again.

“Yes,” El says simply.

“Uh, yeah...I mean, yes, I’m ready. To go,” Mike says, not-so-simply.

“Alright then,” Hop interjects, with a heavy sigh, grabbing his keys from a hook by the door and charging through it, not looking behind to see if they are following. 

The ride over is uneventful, with El and Mike in the back seat, talking quietly about the carnival. Of course, El’s never been to one, so Mike is giving her the low-down on which games and rides are the best. There is a lull in conversation, and after a couple of minutes, Mike clears his throat and says “Um, by the way, you look...good,” Hop catches his eye in the rear-view mirror at this, “like, really nice,” he finishes, feeling lame. He’s speaking quietly but to his own ears, it sounds like he’s shouting, the sound of his voice unbearable, as if he’s listening to himself on tape. Doesn’t Hop ever listen to the car radio? 

“Thanks,” El replies, looking down shyly, “so do you.”

Mike huffs a laugh, looking down at his dark jeans and striped polo shirt that he’s probably worn at least 186 times. “Thanks, El.” She smiles at him then, that smile that seems reserved only for him, subtle and knowing, and Mike knows this is going to be one of the best days of his young life.

 

_______________________________________________

They arrive at what must be the hottest part of the day; late afternoon, which, according to Mike, is actually the best time to start. A carnival doesn’t _feel_ right unless you’re there as day turns to dusk and dusk turns into night, the lights of the rides illuminating the fairway, the temperature dropping just enough to be comfortable, the scent of fried foods and cotton candy permeating the air. 

After reiterating the rules to the pair, his voice commanding in a way that leaves no room for argument, Hopper softens and gently ruffles El’s hair. “Have fun, kid.” He looks at Mike, but there is no malice in his eyes. _I trust you,_ the look says. He places a hand on Mike’s shoulder briefly, but it’s gentle this time.

“See you in an hour,” Mike says as they walk away.

They spend their first hour simply walking around, Mike pointing things out to El and explaining each game, booth, and ride. El’s eyes are wide, eager for every detail he is willing to give. Mike buys her a pink cotton candy, and she looks at him skeptically as he gives it to her.

“You...eat this?” she says, her nose crinkled in a way that makes Mike laugh.

“Yeah, it’s good. See?” He tears off a piece and pops it in his mouth, “try some.”

She does, and she relishes the way it literally melts in her mouth. 

“Good?” 

“Good,” she confirms. He smiles, and together, they finish the cotton candy. When he takes her hand into his, it’s sticky. They don’t worry about it.

_______________________________________________

After making their first walk-through and checking in with Hop, Mike and El meet up with the party. Mike has, of course, come up with a “plan” for the day, wanting to make sure they experience everything the carnival has to offer. For El, of course.

“So I was thinking, we could start with the games, like, now, and then get something to eat before dinner time, you know, to avoid the lines. Then maybe we can start going on the rides when it gets dark and they have all the lights turned on. Also, it might be cool to--”

“Wow, Mike, I didn’t realize you were such a carnival aficionado,” Dustin interrupts, a smirk on his face. 

Lucas laughs, “Interesting, right? Last year he didn’t even want to come and said the carnival was for babies and wastoids.”

“Shut up, Lucas” Mike’s growls. He’s gone all red now. 

“So,” Max begins casually, her voice lilted to a teasing tone, “wherever did you find this new found enthusiasm for the carnival?” 

As usual, Will abstains from joining in and tries to change the subject. “Anyone see the horse race game this year?”

“I don’t know,” Dustin answers “ask PT Barnum over there,” he laughs, gesturing to Mike. 

“That’s the circus you moron!” Mike rounds on him, “At least know what you’re talking about.”

Dustin puts his hands up in mock surrender and turns around to say something to Lucas. Not for the first time, El feels out-of-the-loop. She doesn’t understand the insinuation or why they are teasing Mike. He can read her confusion, and he is annoyed at them over that, and not by the actual teasing (he’s used to that). Mike knows better to get all worked up, so he rolls his eyes and turns his back on them. “El, do you want to go somewhere else?”

“Ok,” she answers.

“We’ll see you guys later,” Mike says, shortly, as they begin walking away. El gives them a hesitant wave.

“Mike!” Lucas calls after him, “come on, we’re just having fun!”

Mike just shakes his head and they keep walking. After they are several paces away, El asks “What’s a circus?”

Mike immediately softens. His shoulders relax again, and he looks at her earnestly as he answers. It’s funny, how Mike is so easily annoyed by his friends, but his patience for her seems about as endless as his collection of striped shirts. 

She learns that the circus is a show with clowns and animals. After asking where they get elephants and tigers in the United States, Mike tells her about how they take the animals from their homes, or breed them here, keeping them in pens or cages, only to bring them out to do tricks on command.

“That’s sounds...bad,” El responds, seriously, “I don’t think I like the circus.”

Mike just nods, his face creased with understanding, and takes her hand again “then we won’t go,” he says softly.

They are walking among the game booths when El tugs on his arm, pointing to a ridiculously giant red-and-white teddy bear. 

“Do you want to play?” Mike asks, looking up at the giant bear. It’s _hideous_ , a bit cross-eyed, and has probably been touched by a thousand carnies. But El wants it, so he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try. He’d do the same if it were a live sewer rat.

“Yes” she nods.

“Okay, well, this game is kind of hard,” he says, walking up to the booth. “I mean, we might not win the bear.”

El doesn’t reply, just observes the game with open curiosity; a set of six metal bottles stacked in a pyramid shape. She watches as a burly, older teen lobs a softball at them. Four of the bottles tumble, the remaining two barely even wobble.

“Shit,” the guy says, turning his eyes on Mike. He laughs “Uh oh, watch out, here comes Rocky Balboa!” 

Other than shaking his head, Mike ignores him. “El, do you want to try?”

She narrows her eyes at the teen, who is casually leaning against the booth, watching the exchange. “I want you to show me first,” she says, after turning back to Mike.

“Um, o-okay,” he looks nervous. “I, uh, I’m not very good at this stuff though.”

The teen laughs. “Come on, Rocky, show your little girlfriend what you’re made of.”

El doesn’t know who _Rocky Balboa_ is, but she understands from his tone and Mike’s body language that this guy is being cruel. She remembers the number one Don’t Be Stupid Rule, and refrains from sending him flying into a dumpster. Bright red, Mike shoots a scowl at the gloating teen, and gives some money to the man behind the booth. 

Mike palms the softball, holds it at arm’s length front of him as if he’s lining it up with bottles. He pulls his arm back and releases the ball. Mike knows as soon as it leaves his hand that it’s no good, that it probably won’t even hit the bottles. To his surprise, it hits them dead center, and with more force than he’s typically capable of, knocking five bottles down immediately. The sixth wobbles a bit, and a few seconds later, tumbles to the ground.

The worker looks surprised, and the teen says something about the game being “bullshit” and stalks away. 

Mike looks at El with a raised eyebrow, and she turns to look at him from where she was concentrating on the bottles. “What?” she queries, innocently.

 _You don't have to do stuff like that for me_ , he wants to say. But they are having fun, and the look on that asshole’s face was worth all the trouble. Instead, he just laughs, taking her hand and leaning down to give her a quick peck on the cheek, which has colored by the time he pulls back.

Fifteen minutes later, meeting Hop at the designated spot, Mike is approaching with who he can only assume is El, because she’s hidden behind giant red-and-white _monstrosity_.

“What the hell is _this_?” Hop all but growls, staring at the bear as if it personally offended him.

“Mike won it,” El says, thrusting it unceremoniously into his arms.

“Did he now,” Hop mutters, looking at her, a warning in his eyes.

“Yes. The man said Mike has a ‘mean curve ball.’” She replies, casually. It blows Mike’s mind, how quickly El is becoming _smooth_ and almost sassy in her demeanor, and he loves every minute of it. For someone who practically lives by the motto _friends don’t lie,_ she’s quickly learning the art of _little white lies_.

“Uh-huh,” Hop says flatly, glancing at Mike, who’s not exactly meeting his eyes. He tries not to laugh at Hop, who looks utterly ridiculous holding a giant teddy bear, with a scowl on his face and a cigarette in his mouth.

“You realize we’re gonna have to move now,” he grumbles. “No way our cabin can hold the two of us and this... _thing_.”

El just blinks at him and asks, “Can we go now?”

He studies Mike hard, then turns his gaze to her. “No more _big wins,_ okay?” His meaning is clear. They’ve broken a rule, and he knows it, although technically he has no real proof (aside from the fact that Mike having a _mean curve ball_ is laughable, at best). But he doubts anyone is going to call the authorities over a spindly teenager winning some piece-of-shit carnival game. He feels like the biggest push-over, because as much as he wants to drag her home and give her a lecture about loss of privileges, she looks happier than he can remember her being in months. She’s practically bouncing to get back to the carnival. 

“Yeah, yeah, go on,” he replies, waving his hand in a dismissive way and walking back to the car, bear in tow. “Don’t look at me like that,” he mutters to the bear as he stuffs it inside the back of his Blazer.

_______________________________________________

They go back to the games for a while, meeting up with the party again. El plays nearly every game, the party members taking turns showing her each one. Mike is relieved that she doesn’t appear cheat at any of them. When she pops five balloons in a row with darts, she looks at Mike with a wide smile and laughs, and he realizes that, yes, this is one of the best days of his life. 

Max loops her arm into El’s and steers her toward the funnel cake stand. Mike watches as they chat casually in line, thankful they are becoming fast friends. As much as Mike wants to be with El all the time (literally _every minute of every day_ ), he also wants her to experience things she’s missed out on, including having friends that are girls. 

Against Mike’s gentle advice (“Oh my god, Wheeler, she’ll be fine,” Max insists), El agrees to go on the Cyclone with her, mere minutes after eating half a funnel cake. Ten minutes later, they are practically skipping off the ride, Max chatting excitedly in El’s ear, who's smiling. Max walks off to find Lucas and Dustin and Will are arguing over what the best ride is, when El takes Mike’s arm and pulls him as she walks somewhere with such purpose that Mike is mildly alarmed.

“Where are we going?” Mike asks, breathless with laughter.

“Here,” she states, stopping at a grassy area between the back of some booths and a few scattered trailers.

Mike notices there’s all sorts of trash on the ground. “Uh…” he says, dumbly, and El kisses him then, full on the mouth, for the first time that day. It isn't perfect at first; there’s a light clash of teeth before she gets her bearings and he rights himself. He makes a surprised sound that comes from the back of his throat, his arms flailing a bit before settling on her waist, gripping more firmly and he kisses her back. 

_I’ll never get tired of this,_ he thinks. Their kisses are still relatively innocent, this one starting with a series of pecks, but they always manage to make him feel lightheaded, or like he’s levitating (which hasn’t really happened--he’s checked, because technically it’s not out of the realm of possibilities). Unfortunately, their kisses have lately been few and far between. They get frustratingly little time alone together, and no way in _hell_ is Mike going to kiss her in front of Hop, or even his friends, at this point (he held her hand at Will’s house once and he didn’t hear the end of it for two weeks). The last time they kissed was two days ago, when Hop went outside for a smoke, and suddenly, they found themselves kissing.

Anything beyond a small peck has been a process of trial and error, with plenty of errors, but those haven’t mattered much. They’re figuring it out. He’s all buzzing nervous energy and raw devotion, and she’s all overt enthusiasm, eager to make up for lost time; when they come together, it’s exhilarating.

They pull away for a brief moment before tilting their heads a different way and going back in for more. This is, by far, the longest they have ever kissed, and Mike feels as if he’s floating into oblivion. Her hands are flat against his chest, and they slide up over his shoulders to meet behind his neck. He steps on something squishy when he moves back to a more comfortable stance, but he can’t bring himself to care. He's hyper aware of El, and she's sensory overload; the taste of cotton candy on her lips, the scent of her fruity shampoo, and her hands tickling the fine hairs at the back of his head. He wonders if it’s normal, to be this obsessed with kissing someone, like it’s an addiction that can never be quelled. What he finds most alarming, is that she seems to feel just as fervently about kissing him as he does her, and for the thousandth time, he can’t believe his luck. The most amazing, resilient, and prettiest girl he’s ever seen, wants to be with him, and sometimes it’s so overwhelming he could burst. 

But like all good things, the kissing eventually comes to an end. She pulls away but rests her forehead on his shoulder for a few moments. His hands are still around her waist, the fabric warm under his touch. He wants to say something, something meaningful, but he can’t find the words, so he settles for pressing a kiss to her forehead. 

“It’s almost time to go,” she says. “I don’t want to.”

“Yeah...me either,” he breathes.

The stand there, taking it all in a for a few, heavy moments.

“Um, before we leave, do you want to go on the ferris wheel?”

Her head comes up, and meets his gaze. “Ferris wheel?”

“Yeah, um, the big round thing? You sit in these seats and it turns around. It’s a ride, kind of. I mean, it’s not like the Cyclone. It’s slow and goes up high so you can see the whole carnival from the top,” he explains. “And,” he adds, “only two people sit in the seat so, y-you can, like, be alone. I was thinking, uh, it might be nice.”

El doesn’t really need convincing, anyway. “Ok, let’s go,” she says, tugging on his hand once more.

_______________________________________________

As night falls, they’re sitting on the ferris wheel. As it descends, the breeze rustles their hair. Their hands are clasped tightly, and they’ve already shared more than a few kisses. 

_This is our first date,_ Mike realizes. It’s more than that, though. It’s a promise of more to come, more nights and days just like this one. El squeezes his hand, and he knows that she understands. She always does.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading...let me know what you think!


End file.
